Love Ain't A Walk In Diagon Alley
by Kate-chan15
Summary: Hermione has always been a Gryffindor at heart, but ever since the Battle Of Hogwarts, she's depressed and chooses to mask those feelings by lashing out at others, and soon it became a way of life for her- a way to cope- and when the sorting hat demands a re-sorting of all eighth years, it's no wonder why Hermione becomes the first Gryffindor to ever turn Slytherin. This year, roma
1. Chapter 1

It was a little past six o' clock on a Sunday morning when Harry Potter entered the Great Hall. The four tables were set with various breakfast options, despite there being only a few fellow Wizards awake and sat at the tables this early.

Harry, wiping sleep from his eyes, sat down at the Gryffindor table and served himself some warm toast, spreading butter atop the slices. He had woken in the early hours again. The nightmares were getting worse, and since Dumbledore's death- or murder- they were unbearable to the point he was usually awake long before anyone else. Harry, though, had found company at even this time of the morning, and she went by the name of Faun Delcy. And, speak of the devil, she entered the Great Hall.

"Hi Harry," She greeted cheerily, sitting beside him. She smiled at the sight of him. His tired green eyes and kind smile. His dark and unruly hair hung slightly in his eyes, and Faun found herself wanting to comb it back with her fingers, just as an excuse to touch him.

Faun had bouncing blonde hair, reaching a little above her shoulders. Her side fringe was pinned back to avoid it falling in her light blue eyes. Her skin was pale in complexion, an obvious sign of her lifetime spent in rainy England. She was slim and tall, and wearing a floral sundress despite the forecast of rain. Faun was not a stranger to having admirers, but with Harry, she was the admirer. Not only was he adorable and handsome and brave, he was funny and intelligent. She had even started setting an alarm for five o' clock every morning, so she could meet Harry here at 6. Of course, she pretended it was a coincidence, but secretly, she knew what was happening. She was falling in love with Harry Potter, the darling of the Wizarding World. And he was falling in love with the classic girl next door, Ginny Weasley. It killed Faun inside to watch Harry stutter nervously and pull at his sleeves in the fierce red-head's presence, and her jealousy was almost unmanageable- _almost_.

"Did you sleep well?" Faun asked, snatching a piece of his toast and taking a bite.

"Not really." Harry replied with a sigh, "But I'm fine, don't worry." But she did worry; that's what you do when the one you love is losing sleep. And she had a sneaking suspicion that the reason for his lack of sleep went by the same name as her own reason for lying awake the past few nights- Ginny.

"Hey Faun," A boy greeted as he walked by, winking at the blonde beauty. She sent the boy a glare and turned to Harry, rolling her eyes. Harry, though, looked amused.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"What?" She asked, inching closer to him without him realizing.

"That Ravenclaw guy just said hello and you looked like you wanted to tear his head off? I would like to see another girl have that kind of reaction to someone like him." Harry looked at the guy, who was nursing his hurt ego. His name was Hugo Spencer, and he was an extremely bright Ravenclaw. He was admittedly handsome, and even Harry wished he could carry himself with Hugo's confidence. Never in a million years would Harry _wink_ at a girl like Faun.

She grumbled under her breath, "Maybe I'm not interested in any of those boys." Harry knew from her tone not to reply.

Hermione, who was planning a full day of studying, walked into the Great Hall. She saw Harry and headed towards him, seeing Faun practically draped over him. She couldn't help but scoff. Faun was so desperate, it was sickening to Hermione. Hermione had to wonder, when had she become such a cynic? Faun was a sweet girl, and Hermione thought that she and Harry would make a sweet couple, but there was something sad about the way a girl like Faun had been reduced to a lovesick puppy, and it almost made Hermione take a disliking to Harry-but mainly, Hermione just found Faun irritating.

"Morning, Harry, Faun." Hermione greeted, sitting across from the two. They replied with smiles, but Hermione caught the blonde casting a scowl at the half eaten toast in her hand, though Hermione was sure it was directed at Hermione, not the olive spread.

"You should get your hair cut." Faun told Harry, reaching out and stroking his fringe aside, "It's hiding your pretty eyes." Harry looked alarmed, but Faun continued to tuck some of his dark hair behind one of his ears. She blissfully ignored Hermione's presence altogether; pretending the brunette hadn't spoilt her alone time with the most coveted boy at Hogwarts.

Hermione snorted, not very ladylike for her or her standards, "Ah," She appraised, "Very subtle, Faun." She chuckled, shaking her head and preparing cereal.

Faun flashed a glare at Hermione, pulling her hand away from Harry's hair, leaving Harry looking confused and slightly dazed. "What is your problem, Hermione?" Faun snapped, "You have been on my case twenty-four-seven lately." The blonde flipped her hair and narrowed her eyes on the brunette.

Hermione thought about it; Faun was right, and there really wasn't a reason for the abuse she had been giving Faun. It had been subtle- no one knew aside from the two girls. Hermione had used her quick wit to throw insults at Faun left, right and centre for a while now. Maybe it was due to her own insecurities; maybe it was some deep, psychological issue, rooted in her brain. But it was probably a coping mechanism. Hermione was haunted, just like Harry, by images of the Battle of Hogwarts, as well as their hardships while searching for the horcruxes, and lashing out at Faun- such an easy target- was a good way to let off some steam. God knew Hermione needed a release.

"I don't know, Blondie." Hermione retorted shortly, already bored. "Harry, how do you feel about Faun?"

Harry was startled, "What do you mean?" Hermione rolled her eyes, so Harry spoke, "I think she's a great friend. Why?"

Hermione ignored Harry's question, and instead turned back to the blonde with the wide, teary eyes, "Must I continue?" Hermione asked.

Faun looked from Hermione to Harry a few times, tears brimming from her humiliation and heartbreak; a great friend? That sure was a kick in the shins. Harry had no clue as to how she felt. She had sometimes believed that Harry was simply flirting with Faun, but he really didn't know, and he more importantly, didn't feel the same way. Faun shook her head quickly at Hermione and shoved herself off the bench, running from the Great Hall and holding back a strangled cry.

"What was that about?" Harry asked Hermione, completely oblivious, unsure of what just happened. Hermione only rolled her eyes; Harry could be very dumb at times. At one time, Hermione might have felt guilty for her rude behaviour, and she would never have said those things in the first place, but Hermione felt different now. She felt a strange happiness from upsetting others, from recognising someone's fears and using them against them. She knew it was at least a little twisted, but the brilliant thing was this: she really didn't care.

(Later on that day…)

"Listen, Faun, I'm sorry." Hermione apologized falsely. Hermione still didn't see why what she had done was so wrong, but after talking to Ron about it, she saw that it was her who had the weird reaction, not Faun. So, now, she was giving Faun a totally fake apology, in the hope of making her forget that Hermione had been mean in the first place. She wasn't really sure why she had changed so much, but she had, and it was everyone else who had to suffer the consequences. Faun was puffy-eyed and pouting back at her. "I guess I don't know how you feel. I'm tired, and I feel so..." For the first time since Hermione could speak, her vocabulary failed her- so she didn't bother to continue.

Faun laughed cynically, but the laughter never reached her sad blue eyes, "Oh Please? You don't know how I feel? What a joke." She smirked, "I've seen you staring at Draco Malfoy all year." she frowned at Hermione, who was stunned, "But don't worry. I won't sabotage you and Malfoy before you even begin. I'm not that kind of person." She glared at the brunette once more before she walked away, leaving Hermione as still as a statue.

From her peripheral vision, Hermione spotted Draco across the room, his curious eyes on her. She spun around to face the other direction. What had Faun meant? Why on earth would she have romantic feelings towards Malfoy? There was only one correct way to think of Draco Malfoy- and that was _always_ in a rather negative light.

_**Hi, so here is another story. I actually wrote this on my Wattpad account, but I am posting it here now too. I will be editing the chapters from my Wattpad version and posting them up here, so stay tuned because new chapters will be appearing quickly!**_

_**Also, can I just say that I would love some reviews, because they are simply the best!**_

_**Well, bye, Kate. Speak soon xxx**_


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy had been hovering outside the door for a while now, trying to fix his face into its usual mask of nonchalance and detachment. He knew that Harry Potter was inside the Great Hall because he could hear the intolerable Gryffindor girl, Faun Delcy, practically throwing herself at him. It was disgracefully really, and Draco couldn't decide whether Potter was amazing or stupid to not have noticed the girl's affection. _Stupid_, he decided- somewhat maliciously.

As the blonde heard soft footfalls approaching him, he stepped out from behind an over sized statue of some mythical creature Draco had neither the time nor interest to investigate. With a jolt, he hurried back behind the creature, going as far as arching his back to remain undetectable.

It was Hermione- _Granger_, he corrected himself. He didn't want her to see him in this state. Hermione was too smart not to notice the difference in the young man, and cunning enough- he suspected- to use it against him. The brunette passed his hiding spot, with only a brief glance his way- looking again at the magnificent animal. Draco felt the usual impact of guilt.

He always felt guilty around her. The memory of Hermione screaming as his late aunt Bellatrix tortured her sent chills down his spine. Draco had been in bedroom at the time, and the Malfoy Manor's acoustics had delivered her shrieks up the staircases and left them to pound at his skull. Draco knew that what was happening to Granger was wrong, and although he wanted nothing to do with it, and longed for the familiar girl to escape, he did not step outside his bedroom- for fear of the dark lord or his father killing him for his traitorous thoughts. So he sat as still as a statue.

The noise had gone silent all at once, ending with one of Hermione's whimpers. he had feared the worst, and stayed in his room for hours. He felt that it was his responsibility to mourn for the innocent girl he had allowed to die- to be murdered. His own cowardice had killed a brave and quite blatantly lovely human being.

Sure, she was annoying and impossible, but Draco had felt he had a likeness with the girl, and a similar sense of confidence and arrogance. Different people wore that differently: Draco with a cruel and ignorant forwardness, but Hermione wore her confidence like a brilliant crest, kindly and with the kind of modesty only the blonde had only ever seen possessed by that one brunette.

When Draco heard the news of how a house elf (whom was previously enslaved by his own bloodline) had rescued the Potter squad, he was secretly glad. He only really cared about Granger's rescue, but he supposed he was glad that the golden trio hadn't been killed by Malfoys.

He was sure that that would have made his reputation and family name beyond salvation. Of course, Draco was still a Slytherin and a Malfoy. He still had to live up to his parent's expectation, so he had acted maliciously before his parents, then returned to his bedroom where he felt himself grin like a complete fool. It had been a long time since he had smiled, and the muscles in his face welcomed the change from his resident spiteful scowl.

Towards the end of Voldemort's reign, Draco could no longer regard the Malfoy Manor as home. Voldemort had transformed it to a dead carcass of its former glory; it was a prison that confined the youngest Malfoy, and Draco had secretly wished and prayed for the dark lord's downfall- even if it was Potter who reaped the rewards and Draco who was hated and branded as a Death Eater.

Having said that, Draco did possess a certain amount of pride from knowing that if he had of given Harry Potter in to Bellatrix, many would now be under the dark lord's control and influence.

To be brutally honest, there was no love lost between the Malfoy family. Draco knew that his father never truly cared for him, and if he did, it wasn't in the way a father should care for his son. Lucius had not been a regular father. He had been cruel and had created a monster from his son.

Draco frequently worried over whether he really was like his father, and that he would be a terrible father too. Narcissa Malfoy had worried that her only child was transforming into an emotionless death eater, much like his father, and he had made his mother proud by risking himself at the cost of Harry Potter and a peaceful Wizarding World.

Draco blinked, bringing himself back to reality as Hermione scoffed in amusement and irritation, "Very Subtle, Faun."

Draco didn't have much time to wonder what Faun Delcy had said in the first place, though he imagined that it had something to do with Harry's _pretty eyes, _or _humour_. Faun snapped back at Hermione, "What is your problem, Hermione?" she seemed really angry, and as Draco peered around the statue, he saw that the girl was seething. "You have been on my case twenty-four-seven lately."

"I don't know, Blondie." Hermione said, sounding bored. She swerved to face her friend, "Harry, how do you feel about Faun?"

The boy stuttered, "Wh-what do you mean? I think she's a great friend. Why?"

Even Draco flinched, _that was brutal_.

Faun was staring at Harry, heartbroken, as Hermione harshly spoke, "Must I continue?"

_Obviously not_, Draco thought as the blonde girl ran past him, crying ugly tears as she went. Draco chose then to enter the room and head towards the Slytherin table. He could hear Potter querying Hermione over what had just happened. _Wow. He really is an idiot._ Draco was marvelled by the fact that this moron had managed to outsmart the dark lord.

The rest of the day passed in a tiringly boring blur, although, he did notice Hermione staring at him on more than one occasion. _Odd_.

_**A/N: Ta-da! Or not. Whatever.**_

_**So, chapter 2, there it is! I had som questions in a review, so if you don't mind, I'll just quickly clear any confusion! **_

_**1) First of all, I am not altogether sure myself when this story is set. You see, at first, I was thinking it would be set in their sixth year (around the time of The Halfblood Prince), but one of the crucial elements of this story is that Hermione has been mentally effected by the war. While I haven't read all the books yet, I know that there is no Eighth year, but I'm afraid you'll just have to use your imagination for this one, because that is the only way this story works in my brain. Apologies if that angers you... Soz.**_

_**2) Aside from the HUGE error in the timeline, everything else is the same as the original story (or, at least, I think it is...); Snape is still dead; Dumbledore is too. McGonnogal has taken over as headmaster.**_

_**Again, I'm sorry if I have offended you true Harry Potter fans. I really love the story and the idea, but I have SO many series' that I'm reading at the moment, so HP is on the back-burner for now. Forgive me for any errors I might make! I'm trying my best!**_

_**Bye, Kate xxx**_


	3. Chapter 3

Since Faun accused Hermione of liking Draco Malfoy, she had felt weird. It was absurd, and yet strangely possible. For example, she noticed that she was far too aware of Draco, whenever he walked past her to get more ingredients in Potions class, her eyes followed him, and when he caught me looking at him, he smiled and in a very un-Hermione way, she had returned the smile shyly. Unfortunately, Crabbe noticed and pointed at me, guffawing, before hollering to Draco, "Look out, Draco! Little Miss Gryffindor is flirting with you!"

Hermione wouldn't exactly call it flirting, but still, she averted her eyes and almost died from embarrassment. While some of the class laughed- mainly just the Slytherins- Draco simply smiled again.

Hermione didn't know what to think.

The brunette convinced herself it was the fact that everyone was staring at her, and how Crabbe was circulating the rumour of her affection for the silver haired snake, that made her face flush pink. As her heart raced, she thought of how handsome Draco looked when he smiled like that.

It was now time to eat dinner, and Hermione had purposely taken a seat opposite Ron, and was trying her best to ignore Faun McKenzie, who was glaring at her from further down the table. Hermione supposed she had actually done the right thing by sending Faun on her not-so-merry way, because Ginny had taken the seat beside Harry, and Harry seemed much more comfortable with the red head. Hermione hoped that eventually Harry would build up the nerve to take Ginny out on a date; or even _ask_, because Hermione was positive Ginny would say yes in a heartbeat.

Everyone was waiting for the food to appear, when Filch sprinted into the Great Hall, carrying a scowling Sorting Hat in his arms, his cat chasing after his heels.

Hermione wondered if there was a new student. It was a good two weeks into the new school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so all first years had already been sorted, and any new arrival was news even to _know-it-all-Granger_.

"I demand a second sorting of all eighth years!" protested the hat, definitively, leaving no room for negotiation.

Professor McGonagall was shocked to say the least, but agreed anxiously, "Very well. All eighth years come to the front and form an orderly Que." said the new Professor. The eighth years all followed the instruction, most remained silent, while others talked nervously among themselves. All the younger students remained in their seats, ready to watch the curious scene play out.

It was an hour later when "_Hermione Granger" _was called out by Headmaster McGonagall. Hermione ascended the steps confidently. She had nothing to worry about when house colours were concerned. Most people had stayed in their original houses, and only a few Hufflepuff's had been upgraded to Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. No Gryffindor's had moved, and no Slytherins had been switched either. Hufflepuff's had been thrilled to move to a more respected house, and Ravenclaw's had sneered at those who had been moved from Ravenclaw to Hufflepuff- as if they were no longer intelligent to be in their company.

Hermione sat atop a wooden stall that had been placed on the front platform. She thought to herself about how unnecessary this whole situation was. As if there were any changes that really _needed_ to be made. She crossed her left leg over her right and crossed her arms indignantly too. She supposed, though, it was rather nostalgic. She could remember it clearly; being nervous, and excited, and only eleven years old. It seemed like another lifetime altogether, after all she had been through.

Her nostalgic smile was soon wiped off though; the hat was on her head; it drawled and mumbled too lowly for Hermione to hear. "I remember choosing your house carefully back in the day. You held a lot of potential, and I can see you have met some of that potential." Hermione felt slightly annoyed at that. With all the hard work she had put in, she had done her very best. "But you're different from back then. No longer positive and optimistic. The war has beaten those qualities out of you." The hat grimaced and so did Hermione. "Yes, yes, you possess many new qualities. You are bitter and cynical. All those deaths changed you." Hermione lowered her head, at a loss and unable to defend herself- it was all true, and it hit a little too close to home, for her liking.

But what it said next came as a shock even to Hermione- as it did to every other wizard and witch in the room.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The word was loud, silencing every other noise in the room, and then silence fell, and it seemed that no one wanted to break that silence. It was probably moments, but to Hermione, it felt like hours of bitter, wretched, judgmental silence- and then it ended, and the sound was even worse to her. Gossiping thundered in her ears like a second heartbeat, and she heard cruel laughter resound from wall to wall. Through suddenly blurry eyes, she saw with horror that some people nodded, as if it all _finally_ made sense now- as if _she_ finally made sense now.

Hermione's eyes widened in terror and shock, "You've got to be kidding me!" She screamed, outraged and not prepared to hide it.

The hat was, apparently, done speaking now, though. Headmaster McGonagall placed a hand on her shoulder as she helped Hermione up, and removed the blasted hat from her curly dark hair. Professor McGonagall told her to go to the Slytherin table, and Hermione complied, her breath staggered from disbelief, her heart racing in her chest. This wasn't real. This wasn't real. She chanted the words to herself. This is all a dream- just some stupid, insane dream! She promised herself. Soon you'll wake up, and you'll laugh at this _crazy, insane dream_. She clasped her left hand in her right, and she pinched her wrist as hard as she could, flinching slightly. She didn't wake up; her eyes didn't flutter open.

Oh no- oh, dear Merlin, _no_. it was no use though. She was starting to see now, that this was not a dream, there wasn't going to be an easy escape from this. This was the worst type of nightmare; the sort you couldn't wake up from.

But Hermione wasn't a weak, damsel in distress; she would fight this, for sure. But first of all, she would find her way to the Slytherin table and she would sit down.

As Hermione walked in a daze to the Slytherin table, she received glares; she heard hushed whispers- the topic of which being Hermione Granger. She slumped into the closest vacant seat, and threw her head down onto the table, resting her hands on her head. _How was this happening? _As she sat, head in hands, she felt many eyes burning holes into her skull, and when she raised her head, she recognised a smug smirk and a set of pale blue eyes, winking at her maliciously; _Faun Delcy_. Hermione heard someone clear their throat awkwardly and she looked to her right, only to meet the unmistakable grey of Draco Malfoy's eyes.

He smiled softly, compassionately even, and Hermione just stared at him, feeling tears well up in her own eyes. She swallowed and looked away, towards the dark wooden table. _How was this happening?_ This had to be the worst day of her life, and it only went downhill from there, because the focus became even more pivoted on the insecure brunette when her most outraged friend rose to his seat, his head appearing from out of the sea of Gryffindor heads.

"This is ridiculous!" screamed Ron. Hermione looked up, panicked. _Oh dear Merlin, no._ "You can't do this!" Ron continued, pointing an extended forefinger at Hermione, "She's a _Gryffindor_!" he looked towards Draco with poorly hidden disgust, harsh disdain. "Not a _foul_ Slytherin." His spat the last words venomously, and Hermione had to resist the urge to make a comment about how he chose _now of all times_ to expand his vocabulary.

As tears budded more prominently in Hermione's eyes, Harry grabbed Ron's arm- his head bobbing up now too- and attempted to pull him from the room, but Ron wasn't having any of it. He had something to say, and he wouldn't be hushed by even Harry Potter.

Ron had not only upset Hermione; most of the Slytherins were _seething_; angry at his obvious disrespect of their house. She heard talk of him being a _disgusting blood traitor_ and felt her tears begin to plummet onto the backs of her hands. She was going to be called a mud blood every day, wasn't she? _Bloody fantastic_.

Hermione ducked her head again, partly to hide her bright red face and partly to hide her tears.

When she lifted her head again, Ron was still shouting angrily, but Harry had been joined by Seamus and, together, they were dragging him from the room. Hermione, quite frankly, was surprised it took so much effort to remove him from the room- _stop it! _She chastised, _those comments are what got you into this mess in the first place!_

"Leave it!" Seamus remarked loudly. Hermione wondered silently if he meant to "_leave_" the argument he was starting, or Hermione herself.

"You're upsetting Hermione!" Harry said loudly. Ginny followed behind Harry, and it pained Hermione to see the fiery red head avoid her gaze.

Hermione was surprised she made it through dinner without crying rivers. She had dried her eyes quickly after Ron left and sat stoically, only nibbling on pieces of bread. As Hermione went to rise from her seat, Professor McGonagall spoke loudly, grabbing Hermione's attention and making her pause as she asked for _Miss Hermione Granger_ and _Mr Draco Malfoy_ to come to her office when they were done eating. Professor McGonagall left, but Draco was still eating. Hermione assumed that Headmaster McGonagall wanted something from _both_ of them, together, so she waited silently as Draco finished. Ten minutes later, after Draco had finished his conversation, they walked made their way to the Headmaster's office. She recalled all the times she had been to see Dumbledore in the very same office, and sadly reminisced the loss of such a brilliant Wizard. He was a fatality- a terrible, horrific statistic.

"Hello Hermione, Draco." McGonagall greeted, guiding them both to sit in two chairs opposite her. Draco and Hermione nodded in sync, and so McGonagall continued, "I'm sure this has come as a big shock to you, Hermione. So I am insisting that Draco here-" she nodded to him, "-helps you to grow accustomed to your new house. I'm sure you will adjust marvellously, you are very wise for your age, and mature enough to handle this change, I'm sure." She smiled at Hermione, who was unfortunately blindsided by the compliments. McGonagall turned to Draco, "She is an exceptionally talented young witch. It is a great honour for the Slytherin house to have her as a member of the green and silver house. Make sure she fits in and is appreciated. Don't let people be cruel to her." Hermione blushed.

Draco nodded, his mouth a firm, set line, "Of course, Headmaster." He smiled kindly at Hermione, and then at the Headmaster, "I'd be happy to help."

Hermione sat up straighter, "But surely you can just move me back to the Gryffindor house." McGonagall shook her head sadly, "But-" she began, readying herself for the fight of her life.

"There is nothing I can do. What the sorting hat says is final." She frowned, "I truly am sorry, Hermione. If there was anything I could do to help you, believe me- I would." McGonagall sighed, "But, as I said, there is _nothing_ to be done."

Hermione slumped, pouting sadly. She had never felt more depressed than she did right then. She was going to be a Slytherin, and Draco Malfoy was going to train her how. She closed her eyes, _Kill me now_, she thought sarcastically to herself.


End file.
